


Take a Break

by as_with_a_sunbeam



Series: Yellow Fever [4]
Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: 1793, F/M, Germantown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 10:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9885863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/as_with_a_sunbeam/pseuds/as_with_a_sunbeam
Summary: Eliza knows her husband, barely recovered from Yellow Fever, desperately needs a break. Her pleading has never had much success, but this time she has a plan. A coquettish smile, an empty house, and a bottle of wine just might be enough to lure him from his office-assuming, that is, if Jefferson and Madison don't ruin it.





	

The temporary Treasury office was an overwhelming bustle of activity when Eliza stepped into the entry way. Clerks hurried in all directions carrying stacks of papers the height of baby Johnny. Eliza bit her lip as she looked around for someone to direct her to her husband’s office.

“Ma’am?” One of the clerks had stopped aside of her. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Where is Mr. Hamilton’s office?” she asked.

His eyes widened as he appeared to recognize her. “The Secretary’s office is just down the hall to the left. Allow me to escort you.”

He’d already gone a step before Eliza said, “No, please, you needn’t show me. I’m sure I’ll manage.” The clerk looked wide eyed and uncertain. She smiled reassuringly and started off on her own.

She peeked in to two rooms before she found Hamilton’s office. He was sitting behind a long wooden desk, covered over with a green cloth that was nearly buried beneath yet more stacks of paper. She watched as he leaned low over a sheet, his quill scratching steadily and his brow furrowed in concentration. His face was as pale as it had been this morning when he’d left for work, she noted, and his eyes were still underscored with bluish circles.

When he seemed to finish his thought and paused, she knocked once on the open door.

“What is it?” he replied distractedly, not looking up from the paper.

“May I have a moment of the Secretary’s time?” she asked playfully.

He looked up at the sound of her voice, a smile spreading over his face. “Eliza.”

She stepped into his office and pushed the door closed behind her. He rose and walked around the desk, greeting her with a long kiss. “To what do I owe this unexpected and welcome visit?”

She gazed up into his face, the signs of his lingering illness plain, and forced all the worry from her expression. Begging him to take time off to rest had no effect, she’d learned over the past decade of marriage. She ran her fingers through the hair at his temple and pasted a coquettish smile on her lips.

“I’ve decided to give the servants the day off,” she whispered.

His brow furrowed in confusion.

“The children are still in Albany, and the servants are all gone until tomorrow,” she continued. Understanding came with a twinkle in his eye.

“So, we have the house all to ourselves?” he confirmed, smirking.

“All to ourselves,” she echoed. “That is of course, if you’re not too busy.”

He shook his head quickly. “All this can wait,” he assured her, gesturing back to the stacks of papers on his desk. She nearly snorted, but caught herself. If she’d asked him to stay home because he looked poorly, she had no doubt that the very same work would have been described to her as pressing and vital.

He kissed her again, deeply, in the way that made her knees go a little weak. “Just let me collect my things and let Wolcott know I’ll be gone the rest of the day. I’ll meet you outside in a moment.”

She agreed, and stepped away, running her palm down his cheek and over his chest. His eyes closed as she caressed him, and he shook his head. “The things you do to me,” he whispered. “My little charmer.”

He hadn’t called her that in a long time. She grinned more genuinely, and said, “I’ll be waiting for you outside.”

She opened the door, stepping back out into the chaotic activity. She threaded her way through the harried clerks and exited into chilled October air of the Germantown street. Pressing her fingertips to her lips, she smiled at the thought of spending the rest of the day with her husband. He’d wish to make love, she had no doubt, but with how exhausted he looked she was sure he’d drift off shortly after. He may even sleep straight through to the next morning. Lord knew he needed it.

She hadn’t been waiting long when the door opened behind her and Hamilton stepped outside, wrapped in his overcoat and carrying his case full of papers. He took the three steps down the stoop at a rapid pace and came to a stop before her, grinning like a schoolboy. “Shall we?”

She leaned into him and kissed him again. He held her close with his free hand massaging the small of her back gently. She rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes and simply holding him for a moment. “I love you,” she whispered.

“And I love you, my dearest,” he replied softly.

When she opened her eyes again, she saw Thomas Jefferson making his way down the street. James Madison was beside him, his lips moving at a rapid pace. A low moan escaped her.

“What?” Hamilton asked.

“Isn’t that Mr. Jefferson and Mr. Madison?” she asked, pulling away. They’d pull her husband back into the office on some urgent matter or other, and she wouldn’t see him until well after dark.

Hamilton looked over as well, spotting the pair. “No.”

She looked up at him. “No?”

He grinned. “No, I’m quite sure it isn’t. But we should hurry before they get here.”

“What?” She grinned back at him, his smile infectious.

“Go, quickly. Run,” he directed, urging her down the street.

His hand stayed on her hip and he was one step behind as they ran like children down the busy Germantown street. She could hear him laughing behind her, and she laughed, too, happier in that moment than she had been in a long time. “Excuse us,” she heard him say as they tore passed several confused looking business men.

Their pace slowed when they turned the corner. Hamilton took her hand and swung her around until her back was pressed against the brick wall of the tavern they were passing. They were both breathing heavily, chests heaving and faces flushed. He kissed her again, his fingers caressing her cheek. “I can hardly wait to get you home,” he said.

“Then we best hurry along,” she prompted.

“A wise suggestion, Mrs. Hamilton,” he grinned again. He offered her his arm, and she took it gladly, leaning against him as they walked down the street at a much more respectable pace.

When they walked through the front door of the house they were renting, Hamilton dropped the case and quickly stripped off his overcoat. Eliza removed the heavy cloak she was wearing and looked over at her husband. He was standing very still in the entryway, and he appeared to be listening for something.

“Do you hear that?” he asked quietly.

“What?” she asked, straining to hear any noise.

“Exactly,” he replied. “Silence.”

She rolled her eyes at him.

“I haven’t had you alone in a house since…” he trailed off in thought.

“New Windsor,” she supplied for him. The little rented cottage near General Washington’s headquarters, back before they could afford servants and before they’d had any children.

“1781,” he said with a laugh. “My, this is an occasion worth marking.”

“And how do you suggest we do that?” she asked flirtatiously.

“I thought we’d begin in the parlor, and make our way steadily through every room of the house,” he said seriously.

“Perhaps we should start with a bottle of wine?” she suggested.

He sighed. “If you insist.”

“I’ll get some glasses. Go get settled in the parlor,” she directed, winking at him. Excitement flashed over his face.

She hurried into the kitchen, selected a bottle of the finest red wine they had, collected two glasses, and made her way into the parlor. Hamilton was on his knees stoking the fire when she entered. He’d closed the curtains, darkening the room. He twisted around when he heard her come in, his pupils blown wide in the fire light.

She held up the glasses and came over to sit beside him on the floor before the fire. “What shall we drink to?” she asked as he poured.

He handed her a glass, then lifted his own. “To the very best of wives.”

“And the very handsomest of husbands.”

“Hear, hear,” he replied, making her giggle. They both drank deeply.

He stretched out backwards on the floor, holding himself upright on his forearms and letting the wine glass rest on the floor beside him. Eliza laid back as well, resting on her side so she could look at him, her head pillowed on her elbow. He sighed contentedly, and his shoulders relaxed.

“I know your plan,” he said conspiratorially after a moment.

“What?” she asked, propping herself up on her forearm as well.

“You wanted me to come home to rest,” he said with a smile. Eliza gaped at him, which made him laugh again. “I see through you, my charmer. I do hope you still intend on fulfilling your end of the bargain.”

Eliza shook her head. Impossible man. “So long as you agree to rest when you’ve exhausted yourself.”

“Agreed.” He winked, then rolled over until he was on top of her.

“Careful. You’ll spill the wine,” she cautioned, inching the glass further away from her.

“I don’t care about the wine,” he said with a strained voice, kissing her deeply again. She gripped at his shoulders as his lips moved from hers down to her neck, and found she didn’t much care about the wine either.

**Author's Note:**

> First time posting. Any constructive feedback much appreciated!


End file.
